“She was pregnant… and lived there the entire time.” Phillips continued, “Until there was a massive fire—”

“A fire?” Eric’s eyes flew open, stunned. That part he hadn’t heard. She hadn’t been willing to tell him everything.

Phillips nodded. “Yes. According to the records, Hadley was taken to the hospital the same day the fire broke out. Joy was born the very next day…” His voice dropped as the words became harder to say.

“The file says Hadley didn’t pay for any of the hospital costs. She and the baby stayed there for only one day, and then—”

Phillips hesitated, carefully choosing his words. “—And then they were allowed to leave the hospital.”

“Humph.” Eric let out a sharp, bitter laugh.

The hospital hadn’t let them go—they’d been pushed out. Could he really blame them, though? Hospitals didn’t operate on goodwill, and in Blathe, Hadley had no roots—no one to vouch for her. If anyone deserved the blame, it was him.

While his wife and daughter endured hardship in a place he’d never even thought to ask about, he had remained completely in the dark. Even after reuniting with Hadley, she’d kept those memories buried—and he had never once tried to dig them up.

“What happened after that?” Eric’s voice came hoarse, cracked around the edges.

“Afterward…” Phillips took a moment, his tone somber. “Hadley left school for about six months before she went back. She scraped by doing whatever she could—waiting on tables, cleaning dishes, stocking shelves at supermarkets. Short-term jobs, one after another.”

“I see.” Eric gave a stiff nod, his expression hollow, eyes unreadable. He turned without another word and walked off.

In the yard, a car sat ready with the engine humming low. As soon as he climbed in, Phillips gave the nod. “Let’s go.”

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“Wait.” Eric’s voice cut in—quiet, low, and edged with frost. “We’re not going to the office. Take me to Flynn Mansion.”

“Yes, sir.”

The car eased out of the driveway. The driver and Phillips exchanged a brief glance. Flynn Mansion? The Flynn family estate? What was Eric doing there so early in the morning?

Flynn Mansion.

Per Ernest’s standing order, Eric had unrestricted access to the estate—he came and went as if it were his own. The staff offered their usual greetings.

“Good morning, Mr. Flynn.”

“Welcome back, Mr. Flynn.”

Eric didn’t acknowledge them. His stride never slowed as he crossed the foyer and climbed the stairs straight to Linda’s room.

Eric’s knuckles rapped against the wooden door, the sound echoing in the hallway.

“Who is it?” a voice called from inside.

The door swung open to reveal Jane, Linda’s caregiver, her expression neutral and professional. “Mr. Scott?” Jane’s eyebrows lifted in mild surprise.

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